


It's Always You and I

by Meero94



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - High School, Amnesia, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, High School, Hurt/Comfort, Kiss cam, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Memory Loss, Tags will be edited as more chapters are added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-03
Updated: 2015-06-15
Packaged: 2018-02-24 00:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 13,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2561009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meero94/pseuds/Meero94
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes there's a coffee shop and a geek with glasses, and the boy smirks and saunters over to him. Sometimes they're stuck in an elevator together. Other times they're an IT guy and a law student. It differs, always, but the constant remains <em> them </em>.<br/>Because, regardless of the universe, Oliver always has a tendency of stumbling into Connor's world and flipping it upside down.</p><p> <br/>Or a collection of various prompts and AUs that I write when I really should be studying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Coliver stuck in an elevator together. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Trigger Warning: Claustrophobia and panic attacks.**

"Oh god," The guy standing next to Connor muttered. "Oh god oh god oh  _god._ " He repeated over and over, as if the guy upstairs had trouble hearing him the first three times. Connor had to refrain from snapping at the man to shut up. 

The voice from the elevator’s speakers informed them that they’d be there for another fifteen minutes, and the news only seemed to agitate the other occupant further. 

"It’s just some technical problem," Connor found himself telling the other man. He wasn’t too fond of talking to strangers when it didn’t involve flirting, but the man standing next to him looked to be about three seconds away from a panic attack. "They’ll fix it real quick. Just  _relax.”_ _  
_

"I can’t relax!" The guy exclaimed, glancing frantically around and clutching at his jacket. "I’m claustrophobic. I just can’t breathe a-and - _shit._ " 

And holy fucking hell. Out of everyone on the fucking planet, Connor had to get stuck in a dim elevator with someone claustrophobic.

Of-fucking-course. 

"Shit, okay, um -" Connor hurried to the speaker, pressing a button to inform the workers that they might need an ambulance and to _just hurry the fuck up,_ and then he went back to the man’s side. “Okay, how about you tell me your name. What’s your name?” 

"Oliver," The guy -Oliver- got out after a few tries. He was breathing with difficulty and leaning against the wall for support. Connor selfishly wished that this had happened with Wes or Laurel instead; they would have definitely known how to comfort the guy. He still took some solace in the fact that it was him and not Asher, or this Oliver guy would have been done for. 

"Alright, Oliver, I need you to sit down," Connor ordered softly, his voice lowered and his hands clasped firmly on the guy’s shoulders. He was sure he had seen something like this on Grey’s Anatomy -or maybe it was House?- and he knew that he needed to apply pressure to the man’s body and.. and, "And place your head between your knees." He all but exclaimed in triumph. 

The other guy obeyed with minimal protest; winding his arms tightly around his knees and attempting to breathe deeply. Connor knelt besides him and, after moments of contemplation, patted his shoulder. Which, for some odd reason, drew a startled laugh out of the other guy. It sounded strangled and faint, but it was a laugh all the same. 

"W-wow, you’re really shit at this huh?" The guy asked. He was still shaking, with hands grabbing his pant legs in fistfuls, but obviously with enough sense in him to make a jab at Connor. 

"I’d like to remind you that  _I_ am helping  _you,_ and it’s very unwise to insult the guy helping you through a panic attack.” Connor said without any true annoyance behind his words. If he were being honest, the guy seemed to be doing a very good job of calming down on his own and seemed to no longer need Connor’s assistance. “I even dirtied my pants for you. I usually get on my knees for very different reasons.” 

"Not. Helping -" The guy choked out, and Connor could swear that some color came rushing back to the man's face. Or maybe it was wishful thinking on Connor’s part, since he couldn't see much in the dark space. "What’s your name again?" 

"It’s Connor," He informed Oliver with a smirk. Now that the guy wasn’t on the verge of dying -although he still shook slightly and made pitiful noises- Connor could relax a bit. "And you owe me a drink when we get out of here. You know, for saving your ass." 

Oliver who up to this point had his gaze locked on the floor, looked up at Connor in surprise and -just like in some stupid chick-flick- the lights came back on at the exact second their eyes met. 

Oliver, Connor found out in the lit-again room, was cute, nerdy looking, and definitely blushing. The guy cleared his throat and staggered up to his feet as the elevator started moving again. Stood on shaky legs, he refused to meet Connor’s eyes, choosing to fix them at the floor instead -just as he had when Connor first got on the elevator. 

"So, um, thanks," Oliver offered, voice slightly shaking, as the elevator started moving again. He clutched at the bar fixed to one of the walls, and bit his lip as he seemed to come to some decision. "And... coffee?" 

The words took Connor by surprise, and he looked at the man in blatant disbelief for a few second. But, not being one to turn down a challenge nor free beverages, he felt a smirk tugging up his lips. Maybe there was more to this Oliver guy than the shy nerdy look first led Connor to believe. 

_Oh this is going to be fun_ , Connor thought to himself then nodded at Oliver. 

"Sure," He spoke with his trademark smirk on display, managing to make the one word sound filthy. "Coffee." 

_What's a simple cup of coffee anyway,_ he told himself as they made it out of the metal room. _Really couldn't hurt._

Which, he found out numerous dates later, were famous last words. 

He never regretted them once. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, as mentioned in the summary, this will be an on-going Coliver fic fest. I'll post drabbles here and AUs that I don't make into stories of their own. That's not to say that I'll be posting everything here, because I'll be posting separate stories as well! So -shameless self promotion time- maybe check those out as well?
> 
> I hope you liked this, and I'll be posting more if you guys want me to. You're always welcome to leave me a prompt here or on sulkybbarnes on tumblr -where I tend to rant and cry a lot.
> 
> Kudos/comments would be most appreciated! Tell me what you think!


	2. The one he needs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Something from when Connor shows up at Oliver's post murder. 
> 
>  
> 
> **Warning: Spoilers for 1x04**

He wasn't thinking well. He wouldn’t be here if he was.

What self respecting law student, with an ounce of sense in his brain, showed up at someone’s door at six in the morning after committing a murder?

Connor should know better. He is -was- the smartest in all his classes, and every logical part of his brain had screamed at him to get the fuck back to his house. To not knock on Oliver’s door. To  _keep him out of this_. But he couldn’t. Because Connor had always been selfish and his panicked state also made him stupid. So he raced to Oliver’s apartment and hammered at his door, despite all the reasons that he shouldn’t have.

He really hated himself for it. He knew it was wrong. Knew it was all kinds of messed up that he wanted to see Oliver now. As he knocked on the older man’s door, Connor recited the many reasons he shouldn’t be here. He told himself that Oliver would hate him even more than he already did, and yet he knocked. The urgency of it increased when he heard footsteps moving towards the door.

And then the door opened and Connor’s world snapped back in place -and then crashed around him all at once. 

Oliver looked the way he always did; soft and warm and  _safe_. Everything that Connor’s life had been lacking up until they met. Granted, he looked sleep-rumbled and somewhat angry, but he was still the most beautiful thing Connor had seen in weeks. He might possibly be the last beautiful thing Connor would ever see -what with him going to jail and all. And the idea of it, of Oliver being the last beautiful thing he ever saw, seemed incredibly funny and soothing to Connor’s screaming mind. So soothing, in fact, that he found himself fighting down the urge to laugh hysterically. He was pretty sure he smiled insanely anyway, and Oliver said something to him at that, but Connor was beyond reach. 

He only answered on autopilot, the words tripping out of his mouth on their own. He felt his chest collapsing under the weight of what happened tonight. He lowered himself to the ground with panic invading his every thought, drowning out the world around him. 

In that moment, nothing existed for Connor except for the gnawing fear climbing up his stomach -and the reassuring weight of Oliver’s grip on his shoulder.

Oliver's touch was grounding and more terrifying than anything else that happened that night. At the warm familiar touch, something in Connor cracked; sending tears racing down his cheeks. But Oliver’s touch also woke something else up; a feeling that made its way past Connor’s sternum and into his head. It caressed his heaving chest as it went and slowed down the shaking. It told him that, as long as he had Oliver’s solid presence by his side, he might just end up being alright. 

For some reason, he believed it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this very late at night and it's still unedited, so please tell me if you find any mistakes. Also, what did you think of it? I'd love to hear your thoughts!  
> Thanks so much to everyone who commented and left kudos on the past chapter, you guys rock!
> 
> Kudos/comments would be much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for Coliverweek2014
> 
> Day 1: Favorite Coliver Moment; _stop looking at me_

“ _Stop looking at me,_ ” Oliver says to him, his cheeks flushed and lips pulled in a helpless smile. He tries to look away, grinning still, but Connor moves a step closer. Smiles even wider as he stares at the other guy.

Connor recalls the first time he saw Oliver. He remembers thinking that the guy looked cute, a little too subdued for Connor’s taste but that he’d do the job; he’d give Connor the information he needed. Because, in all honesty, Oliver started out as an opportunity to further Connor’s progress and a potential one night stand. He thinks that were Oliver any slower in offering his help, Connor would have walked away and never looked back. He thanks his lucky stars every day that that didn’t happen.

Instead here he is, weeks later, standing in the other man’s apartment and grinning at him. Things had gone from Oliver hacking into computers for Connor into Oliver inserting himself into Connor’s every thought, so that the latter couldn’t take a run without straying off path and finding himself at Oliver’s front door. It’s all new territory to him, but the entire thing is as exhilarating as it is terrifying. Connor smiles wider the more he thinks about it.

Oliver squeezes his eyes shut and lets out a nervous laugh. He peeks at Connor in an endearing fashion then shakes his head once, the red still high in his cheeks.

“You’re still staring,” Oliver states with a shaky voice, the embarrassment bleeds out of his smile and leaves something lighter in its place. Softer.

Connor knows that he’s in too deep. Knows that he should be more freaked out by the ‘couples’ comment Oliver made –and maybe he is freaking out somewhere deep in his brain- but instead he feels happy. He feels light and invincible and way too fond of the man standing in front of him than he’d like to admit.

 He feels like telling Oliver that he never wants to stop looking at him. That he could spend days trying to make Oliver blush, just so that he could enjoy looking at him as he did so. Instead, Connor takes another step forward and tastes Oliver’s smile against his own lips. He reckons that that should be enough for now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an awful little ficlet for your entertainment. I hope you liked it! 
> 
> Kudos/comments would be most appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this for a tumblr prompt and it somehow ended up being +1k, I don't know why this keeps happening but I hope you guys like it anyway. I'd feel ashamed with how fluffy it turned out but in my defense, it is one in the morning. And since I wrote this very late at night, you might find some typos, so I'll be eternally grateful if you point those out. 
> 
> Thanks to my awesome prompt giver!
> 
> **TRIGGER WARNING: Nightmares/night-terrors and very brief hinting at panic attacks. Stay safe, please. ******

The world tilted sideways, the sickening scent of blood heavy in the air even as Connor held his breath. There were eyes fixed upon him, still and accusing, their last expression one of shock. They made chills run down Connor's spine, pinned him in place and kept him from moving. He wanted to scream something irrational, like demanding the eyes to look elsewhere, but then he realized that they were dead unseeing eyes. And dead men couldn't very well move their eyes now, could they?

A hysterical laugh started at the back of Connor’s throat. His vision blurred and the room spun once again, its contents hard to make out in the semi darkness. Connor chocked on his laugh, his hand trembling as he reached out to close Sam's eyes. 

_If only he'd stop looking at me_ , Connor thought to himself.  _If only he'd stop looking, it'll all be fine._ His hand shook, close to the dead man's eyelids now. He could do it. He will do it. And the world will right itself once Sam's gaze was off of him for good. 

With a last shallow breath, Connor bit his lip until he tasted blood and placed his fingertips near the other man's cold face. That was when the eyes finally blinked at him.

Connor's scream finally made it out of his throat.

Startled out of his nightmare, Connor bolted up in bed with fear eating at his heart. He kicked at the covers, heart pounding, and reached for his damp hair with shaking fingers to brush it out of his face. 

_Just a dream._ He told himself, despite the image of Sam's face still marring his vision.  _Just a dream, just a dream, just a fucking -_

"Connor?" The voice was small, coming from the right side of the bed. Despite the softness of the word and the hushed tone, Connor's first reaction was to flinch away. His eyes were still wide with fear, his breaths heaving and he struggled to calm down. He knew who it was beside him. Knew that all he had to do was glance at the man's face and it'd calm him down somewhat, but he couldn't. Knowing and doing were two different things when it came to panic. That much Connor knew. 

"Connor," The man repeated; his voice now concerned and clearer. "What's wrong?" 

Connor felt a hand curling at his shoulder, the bed shifting as his boyfriend got up and moved closer. He was warm and solid and so so different from Connor's nightmare. The pressure against Connor's skin was reassuring but the darkness was still there, the chill from the nightmare chasing its way through Connor's veins. 

"Connor,  _sweetheart_ , would you just look at me?" Oliver offered in a soothing tone, and Connor had the distant idea that Oliver must be scared to be using terms of endearment. "Come on, just open your eyes. I'm right here." 

"O-oliver?" Connor breathed out. He hated the break in his voice, hated that his eyes were still squeezed shut. There was wetness on his cheeks and he didn't want to acknowledge that either. What if Oliver pulled away when he finally saw the desperation in Connor's eyes. Worse yet; what if Connor opened his eyes and Oliver wasn't even there? Just another cruel trick played by Connor's mind. 

"Right here," Oliver whispered, his lips close to Connor's temple. He now had one arm around Connor's waist, his hand gripping the fabric of Connor's t-shirt, and the other hand stroking the younger man's hair gently. "Not going anywhere. Just open your eyes and look at me. You're _safe_." 

Connor let his eyes pull open very slowly and, thankfully, there was a pair of warm brown eyes staring back at him. 

"Hey," Oliver murmured, his arm tightening around Connor. 

"Hi," Connor uttered back with a sheepish expression. Had it been anyone else, Connor would be flipping out by now for how vulnerable he looked to them. He would be angry with himself and the person, because Connor must have looked like a spooked animal, helpless and on the verge of lashing out or running away –but this was Oliver. He was safe and warm and everything Connor didn't deserve, so Connor did what he did best and selfishly laid his head on Oliver's chest. It made their position awkward at first but then Oliver shifted a bit and pulled Connor closer, their blankets sitting in a puddle around them.

"Nightmare?" Oliver questioned. His voice vibrated through his chest and made Connor feel more real. Like he wasn't about to fall through the peaceful moment and into another nightmare. Connor hummed his assent. "Wanna talk about it?" 

He shook his head no, still too scared he'll cry if he spoke. 

"You don't want to go back to sleep, do you?" Another head shake. "Alright then, I'll do the talking," Oliver supplied easily, brushing a kiss against Connor's hair. "How about we read a bit from that book you bought me? I didn't even want to put it down before I went to bed. Had to force myself to close it. I'll start wherever you reached." 

"But you were ahead of me," Connor croaked out. They were taking turns reading the book, each of them snagging it when they had some free time. Oliver had been bragging about being three chapters ahead for the past two days. 

"It's a good book," Oliver shrugged, "Some rereading is definitely in order." 

He let go of Conno for a moment, reaching for the book on their nightstand, and flicking the light switch on one of the lamps. He then put on his glasses and moved back to sit against the bed's headboard, motioning for Connor to come sit beside him. 

Connor moved without hesitation, laying his head down on Oliver's shoulder and hiding his face in the other man's neck. His arms circled Oliver's waist, clinging to him, and at that Oliver gave a soft laugh. He smelled like cream and sleep and  _home_. Connor could feel a tiny smile tugging at his lips, despite the unshed tears burning in his eyes. 

"Let's see," Oliver cleared his throat then started reading. " _I cannot remember what we said to the two men, how we left them, or how we came to our room. I remember his face, skin drawn tightly over his cheeks, the dulled pallor of his brow._ " 

Connor listened without really understanding the words. Oliver's voice calmed down the last of his fears and settled his heartbeat, the slow movement of Oliver's fingers through his hair tempting back sleep. Connor marveled at the growing sense of peace in his chest, at his tears slipping free and dotting Oliver's white shirt without him fearing what Oliver might think. The sadness bled out with the tears, and soon enough Connor found himself enveloped in glowing warmth. Feeling the safety that only came with Oliver's presence, and praying to a god he didn't believe in that he'll never lose this. 

"You know that I love you, right?" Connor interrupted Oliver's reading, voice slow and heavy with sleep. His eyes were closed, his arms loosening around Oliver as he fought a battle against his eyelids but his fingers clinging to the fabric of the other man’s shirt.

"I know and I love you too, Con," Oliver's smile was evident in his voice. Connor imagined it blooming on Oliver's face, lighting up the room and fighting away the shadows. 

"Keep reading," Connor muttered. "Like your voice."

Oliver gave a surprised laugh at that and went back to reading the book, but not before brushing a quick kiss to Connor's temple.

" _Tears came, and fell. Above us, the constellations spun and the moon paced her weary course. We lay stricken and sleepless as the hours passed._ "

Connor smiled to himself, taking a deep breath and letting it back out. The nightmares won't just fade away and his troubles will wake up with him tomorrow morning, but at least, beyond any doubt, Connor knew that he'd always have Oliver by his side despite it all. Oliver and his warmth and his smile and his reassuring touches. Oliver and the well of strength he always had for Connor. It may not erase all of his troubles, but it sure as hell was more than enough for Connor all the same.

With that last thought, Connor borrowed closer into Oliver's side, and let the sound of soft words wash over him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked this, and I'd very much appreciate the feedback. The book mentioned is The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller and it's awesome and you should read it. Like now. 
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at sulkybbarnes where I accept prompts and teary rants. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, kudos/comments are most appreciated!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **MAJOR spoilers for the season one finale, and a whole lot of angst and hurt/comfort.**

Oliver broke his arm falling down from a tree back when he was eight. He knew the feeling of the ground rushing up to meet him. Knew the sweep of his stomach and the lurch of his heart when he felt the branch snap underneath his feet. Oliver would never admit it, but he had always thought that moment to be the scariest of his life. The moment that, according to his young self, was the worst thing that could possibly ever happen. It was still nothing, compared to  _this._

Connor sat at the edge of the mattress, eyes widened in shock and pain flickering at the downturn of his lips. Oliver only told him moments ago and he anticipated what would happen next. Waited for the mattress to breath its sigh of relief as Connor's weight lifted from it. Oliver waited for the other man, with tears in his eyes, to leave him. It'd only make sense. Connor would leave, and Oliver would be left to face the fall all over again. The ground rushing up, the snap his life made as it became undone, the crippling fear of knowing what comes next. He felt new tears welling up his eyes and blurring his vision. 

Connor finally got up and moved. 

Except -he moved towards Oliver. Connor made a strangled noise that sounded like words being aborted. He moved to sit closer to Oliver, fingers brushing the older man's cheeks, wiping his tears and caressing the tracks they made. The gentle touch sent a new wave of shock down Oliver's spine, and his tears came in abundance. The whimpering noises small and pathetic in the otherwise silent apartment. 

"Oliver," Connor whispered, the name meant to soothe. His hands moving all over Oliver's face, his jaw, his eyelids. "Oliver, look at me. It's  going to be okay, alright?" Oliver made a strangled noise, causing Connor's lips to twitch in a poor attempt at a smile. "Or -or maybe not. I don't know, but point is; we'll figure it out anyway. Like we did other things. And we'll do it. Together." 

"How are you not freaking out?" Oliver asked with fresh tears. The damned things wouldn't stop coming. 

"Oh, I am." Connor nodded a few times, biting his lip then brushing damp hair back from Oliver's forehead. "Doesn't mean what I'm saying isn't true. I'm here. And you'll be alright.  _We'll_ be alright."

Oliver squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the ground to finally meet him. Waiting for the sensation of falling to stop. It didn't, but at Connor's words the world seemed to slow down. He still felt the fear eating away at him, heard his heart drumming in his ears but, where it was all consuming and terrible before, it felt more bearable now with Connor's fingers threaded through his.

He nodded once at Connor, fitted his head against Connor's shoulder when the other man moved to lay by his side. He was falling still, but he thought that maybe there would be something to soften the collision this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in ten minutes while emotionally compromised, so please excuse how crappy it is. Come cry with me at sulkybbarnes or leave me a comment detailing how heartbreaking this episode was, up to you!
> 
> Kudos/comments are much appreciated <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Oliver has always wanted to kiss Connor, the latter is a bit of an idiot, and Asher is _terrible_ at giving love advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Overly fluffy highschool au written for a tumblr prompt.  
> In other words; here's the fluff I promised, babies. Enjoy!

For as long as he could remember, Oliver had wanted to kiss Connor. At first they were eight and seven, kids playing in the sandbox, and Oliver first wanted to kiss Connor's cheek when the younger boy shared his ice cream with Oliver. Then they were thirteen and fourteen, laughing as they chased each other down the street, and Oliver wanted to kiss Connor's skinned elbow where he fell. And finally they were seventeen and sixteen and Connor, with a nervous smile so unlike him, asked Oliver if he'd like to go out with him on a date and Oliver had never wanted to kiss anyone more. 

Oliver agreed to the offer right away, color high in his cheeks and his grin splitting his face. He couldn't stop his restless energy all day long, to the point where some of his teachers threw him annoyed looks for it, while Wes and Laurel grinned along and teased him.

Their first date went without a hitch; they went to the cinema, held hands throughout the silly movie Oliver picked, and even shared fries and a milkshake at a diner afterwards. It was all too perfect and so sickeningly -in the good way- coupley that Oliver couldn't stop smiling all night long. And when they finally made it to his house, Connor playing the gentleman and walking him to the doorstep they spent entire summers loitering at, Oliver was more than ready for Connor to kiss him. Except -it never came. 

Instead, Connor blushed furiously, muttered something about getting up early, and then pecked Oliver on the cheek and ran down the few steps and to his car. Oliver blinked for a few long seconds then went after him. 

"Connor! Con, shit, wait." Oliver called out, just as Connor was getting into the car. The younger boy turned slowly towards Oliver, letting the car door swing back shut. He looked sheepish and embarrassed as Oliver approached him, and the look sent something fluttering down Oliver's stomach. "Didn't you forget something?" Oliver raised his eyebrows, his cheeks reddening but not enough to be visible in the yellow streetlight. 

"Uh, goodnight, Oliver?" Connor questioned, biting his lip a little and Oliver's face fell. Okay, so maybe the date hadn't been as great as he thought it was. Maybe Connor had been given second thoughts and he wanted to let Oliver down easy. Maybe they won't even be friends anymore because it'd be too awkward from now on. Maybe-

"Hey, Ollie, don't do that. I know that look, you're overthinking stuff and freaking out. Aren't you?" Connor sighed, running a hand through his hair. "What's wrong?"

"Was our date  _that_ bad?" Oliver blurted out. "Is that why you're all but running away?" 

"What. Literally,  _what?_ " Connor's eyes widened, his hand coming up to smack his forehead. " _No._ No, oh my god no. It's -it's not that, Oliver, trust me. Fuck, I'm so sorry." Connor surged forward and grabbed Oliver's hand, squeezing it as he worried at his lips. "It's just that I had to leave before I did something stupid like.. kiss you."

Oliver stared, dumbstruck, for a few seconds. "That's kind of the  _point_ of dating, Connor. You get to kiss people. Preferably repeatedly and in various places." 

"Uh, not that I'm opposed to any of that," Connor cleared his throat, his red cheeks flaming a darker color. "But it's our first date. Asher said you can't kiss people on a first date or you'll screw it all up. Make it look assumptious. And -I've, um, never been on a date before and it's  _you_ so.."

"Connor," Oliver sighed in exasperation. "Please tell me you weren't asking Asher for love advice  _again._ Remember when he brought a girl a lobster for Valentine's Day because it was red? Remember when he tried to convince  _you_ to buy a lobster for Valentine's Day so it becomes a 'trend'?"

"Wes was busy and Michaela would have laughed at me," Connor explained with a pout, then seemed to pause and come to an exciting realization as his face lit up. "Wait. Does this mean I can kiss you? First date and all?"

Oliver laughed, the giddy feeling making its way back into his chest and dissolving the final shred of worry. "I mean, are you sure you want to? You don't wanna screw it up. You can always wait till our wedding d- _hmph_." 

Oliver was cut off by a pair of impatient lips crashing into his. It wasn't by far the most elegant kiss he ever had, but Connor tasted like cotton candy and cola, his lips warm and soft against Oliver's own and he knew that he wouldn't trade it for anything. The kiss was at an awkward angle at first, their noses bumping as they adjusted their lips and Oliver's glasses getting in the way. Oliver would have ignored it all, had Connor not let out a loud giggle against his mouth when the glasses nudged his cheek. Oliver pulled back, his face burning with embarrassment as he pulled his glasses off and tucked them into his back pocket. He grinned down at Connor once the glasses were no longer a problem, and the younger boy retaliated by pulling Oliver against him and kissing him again. 

This time the kiss was slower, a brush of lips against lips, chaste and sweet, accompanied with the soft brush of Connor's fingers against his cheek. Connor took a step backwards, his back colliding with the car, and moved Oliver with him. He opened his mouth a little, not a full invitation, but enough so that Oliver bit into Connor's bottom lip then soothed the bite with his tongue. Connor whimpered at that, drawing back to give Oliver a wide eyed look, his face flushed and so  _so_ beautiful. Oliver smiled such a wide smile at the sound his boyfriend made that he knew he wouldn't be able to kiss Connor anymore tonight if he tried. He'd be smiling far too much to do it right.

"And I think that concludes it for tonight," Oliver stated to Connor's disappointment, leaning down to brush a quick kiss against the younger boy's temple. "I'm getting a bit, uh, too excited. Stop looking so smug."

And had you told Oliver five years ago that he'd be standing here with Connor flushed and thoroughly kissed, not five feet away from where they used to play hide and seek as kids, he would have gaped -maybe even laughed- at you. But here they were anyway, staring at each other as if there was nothing better to look at in the universe and Oliver couldn't remember a time when he was happier. 

"So it's goodnight for real this time?" Connor sighed, his lips twitching when Oliver mirrored his disappointment. 

"I'll still see you tomorrow at school," Oliver grinned then started walking backwards, his eyes fixed on Connor. "And just so you know, Wes is so hearing about you taking Millstone's advice." 

"You wouldn't." Connor exclaimed and was rewarded a laugh from Oliver. "Oliver!"

"Night, Con." Oliver called out, finally turning around and heading home. 

"Oh, I'm fucking murdering Asher for this." Connor muttered to himself then sighed in amused resignation, his mood way too good to be dampened for long.

He had wanted to kiss Oliver ever since he was seven and the older boy gave him his sand bucket to play with, and now that it finally happened he still couldn't believe it. He had gotten it right at last. Well, sort of, but it turned out perfect in the end.

"G'night, Oliver." Connor said to the night, smile wide and lighting up his face as he got in his car and drove back home, with the promise of tomorrow at the back of his mind. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't feeling so good about this chapter but I'd have deleted it if I stared any longer, so there. I hope you guys liked it anyway. 
> 
> Comments/kudos are much appreciated <3
> 
> P.S: You can always give me prompts here or at sulkybbarnes on tumblr.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> College!Au written for a tumblr prompt that says **"Come over here and make me."**.   
>  Enjoy!

Oliver had been studying for his finals for the entire past week. He hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep in ages, hadn’t even spent more than an hour away from his books in just as long, and had been living on granola bars and coffee for days. So it was very understandable when the sound of Connor Walsh’s loud laughter grated on his nerves. 

Connor was one of their university’s most known students. He had his own entourage of cool kids to hang out with, a shiny new car he drove around, and a smirk that could put Lucifer’s to shame. He had the Devil May Care attitude down to a science, and Oliver couldn’t handle his shit for another second.

"Excuse me," Oliver gritted out irritably, his words carrying over to Connor and his pointed glare making their recipient clear. "Some of us are trying to study in here if you don’t mind taking it down a notch. It is called a Study Room, after all." 

Connor’s noise died down. The other boy’s eyes widened, probably at being addressed with disdain rather than adoration, but it only lasted a second. The next moment, Connor had his trademark smirk painted on and amusement dancing in his eyes as he headed towards Oliver. He stopped a few steps shy of Oliver’s table and pinned him with a daring look.

"Are you telling me to shut up?" Connor asked with false curiosity, his lips twitching up when Oliver frowned at him. 

"I’m telling you to be quiet." Oliver countered, the lack of sleep coupled with exam stress making his tongue looser. Instead of taking offense, Connor grinned wider. 

"Fine," The younger boy answered, a challenge shaping his next words. "Come over here and make me." 

And what happened next; was something that neither of them expected nor were they likely to ever forget. Because Oliver -shy, nervous,  _sweet_  Oliver who had never done anything of the like before- pushed back his chair, strode the three steps separating him from Connor and, in full view of everyone in the room, kissed Connor square on the mouth. The kiss was hard, with both their lips closed and only lasted mere seconds but Oliver felt a wave of shock running down his spine. He jerked back when his tired brain finally caught up with his actions, but refused to show his embarrassment and opted for a tight smile instead. 

"There," Oliver stated to a dumbstruck Connor whose cheeks, to Oliver’s delight, were burning a pretty shade of red. "That ought to do it. Now if you’d excuse me, I have a final to study for." 

Oliver made his way back to his chair, pointedly ignoring the snickers and impressed looks thrown his way. He also opted to ignore his own reddening face and decided to blame it on the coffee. 

Somewhere behind him, Oliver heard Connor speaking -loudly- to his friend in an awed voice. 

"Rebecca.. I think I’m in love." Connor announced, and Oliver bit his lip hard to hide a smile. 

They went on their first date two hours after Oliver’s last final.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't usually publish everything I post on tumblr for coliver, but I'm pretty fond of this one so I just had to. I hope you guys liked it!! 
> 
> Comments/kudos are much appreciated, tell me what you thought <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt that says **"Marry me?"**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll just drown you guys in fluff to make up for canon. Enjoy!

There's a little place where the curtains don't quite meet and the sun is streaming through it, making its way to the bedspread and tickling Oliver's side. He's laying in bed with his boyfriend, their legs entangled and Connor's head tucked safely under Oliver's chin. The room is quiet except for the little murmurs Connor makes in his sleep. He shifts a bit, his arm tightening around Oliver's middle, as he mutters something that sounds like  _"S'cold, Ollie. Warmth."_ and Oliver takes that as an invitation to snuggle closer. He holds Connor a little tighter, and feels his heart grow five sizes too big with how much he loves this man. 

"Marry me," Oliver whispers into Connor's hair and knows that he means it. Connor may not be awake to hear it now, but Oliver will say it again later. He'll say it loud and clear and a thousand times if he has to. He knows that Connor will say yes -is sure of it, even- but the decision sends a flutter down his stomach still. 

He smiles into Connor's skin, kisses his temple, and then drifts back to sleep.

***

"Marry me." Connor says, and Oliver almost drops the plate he's washing. Connor is standing a bit behind him and to the right, and it makes no sense that he'd ask this now -right after they bickered over groceries for half an hour. 

When Oliver turns to face him, soapy hands and all, Connor has a look of pure adoration on his face. His eyes are hopeful and scared at once, his lips bitten raw, and he's so beautiful Oliver could spend a lifetime looking at him.

"I mean," Connor stutters out. "I know this isn't ideal or romantic, and who proposes in a kitchen after breakfast for fuck's sake but.. I was planning to do it differently. Next week with a ring and dinner and all. But -" Connor takes a deep breath, moves a step closer. "But you drink too much damn milk and I have to go shopping for it every other day, and you use too much soap to wash the fucking dishes and it drives me crazy but I can't wait because I'm in love with you. And next time I call my mom to tell her about my week, I want her to know what a dork my  _fiancé_ is. So, marry me?"

Oliver opens his mouth to answer, closes it, and then holds up a finger to Connor. 

"Wait right there," Oliver speaks in an awed voice, moving towards one of the higher cupboards as he speaks. "Don't you dare move, Connor."

He throws a backward glance at Connor, who looks puzzled but mostly worried, then pulls the blue velvet box he kept hidden atop the pasta shelf. 

"So," Oliver smiles as he heads back towards his boyfriend. Connor stares at the box, looks back up at Oliver, and then stares at the box some more. "Looks like I beat you to buying the ring if not to the asking."

Oliver is feeling giddy, his eyes are getting suspiciously glassy but he blinks them once and watches as Connor extends a hand and grabs the ring box. His boyfriend - _fiancé_?- grins down at it, his breath escaping him in a small laugh.

"You hid it behind the pasta, Ollie?" Connor grins. His voice is even but Oliver can see the slight tremor in his hands, the same giddiness Oliver feels mirrored in Connor's eyes. "You know it's my turn to cook tomorrow, right?"

"Is that your way of saying yes?" Oliver shakes his head with a laugh.

Connor moves closer to him, leaving merely a breath between their faces. Their noses bump when Connor speaks again but they're both smiling. "Depends. Is this yours?" He holds up the ring, eyes never leaving Oliver's.

" _Yes_." Oliver breathes out. 

"Then yes." Connor repeats and then they're kissing, soapy hands and dirty dishes in the sink and a silver band clutched between their palms. 

Oliver never imagined it'd be this perfect.

***

"So, Ollie," Connor says sometime later, his tone thoughtful. "Technically speaking, which of us proposed first?" 

Oliver pauses and thinks for a few moments, trying to find an answer and completely oblivious to the fact that they'd bicker about this question for many  _many_ years to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm very thankful to everyone who's been commenting and leaving kudos this far, you're the reason I keep writing coliver fics. So, thank you <3
> 
> Comments/kudos are most appreciated, and you can always come talk to me at sulkybbarnes. Tell me what you think!!
> 
> P.S: You guys, we're almost at 300 kudos for this fic?! Oh my god!!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a tumblr prompt that says "Wanna dance?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The song mentioned is La Vie En Rose by Louis Armstrong_
> 
>  
> 
> So much fluff. _So so much fluff_ , I apologize in advance.

They moved gently to the humming music, their bodies swaying so slowly they would seem suspended in time to anyone watching. And, Oliver thought, maybe they were suspended in time. This dance after all was making up for the one they missed over six years ago.

Oliver tightened his arms around Connor’s waist, mouthing the words against his boyfriend’s temple and feeling the other man’s smile pull at his cheeks. He often wondered what would have happened if they hadn’t ran into each other a couple years back. He wondered what his life would have been like if Connor Walsh remained the unattainable crush from Oliver’s high school years, and silently thanked whatever deity listening that he never had to find out.

 _“Wanna dance?”_ Oliver had asked years before, a nervous boy at senior prom and one that Connor didn’t really know well. Still, Connor had taken up the offer with a grin and danced a few songs with Oliver. Back then their dancing had been fast paced and carefree, the memory tinged with the haze of alcohol and the excitement of graduation. They didn’t get to dance to the song Oliver aimed for, the one for couples, because Aiden Walker showed up and pulled Connor away to sneak in some shots. Oliver remembered clearly how pissed Connor had seemed with Aiden but that he followed him anyway, casting Oliver an apologetic smile and a promise to come back over his shoulder. That time was the first and last time Oliver spoke to Connor outside of class during their high school years, and he spent far longer than he’d like to admit going back to the memory in the years that followed.

Until he ran into Connor at an art gallery close to four years later, Oliver had lost all hope of ever seeing the boy again –but life as always, had other plans. Connor with his smirk somehow deadlier than it were in high school and his eyes full of promise had approached Oliver at the art gallery, drink in hand, and casually said  _“So, Hampton, remember me? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I owe you a dance.”_ And Oliver’s life was never the same after that.

“Keep singing,” Connor’s voice brought Oliver back to the present, the sound vibrating in his chest where he was pressed against Oliver. They were standing so close Connor’s breath brushed against Oliver’s skin when he spoke. “You know I love your voice.”

_When you kiss me heaven sighs, and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose._

The song crooned in the background, causing Oliver to pull back and drop a chaste kiss to Connor’s lips. The latter shook his head, eyes smiling even as he muttered out an exasperated “Sap.”

Oliver ignored the comment and started singing along to the music, going as far as repeating the lyrics and humming even after the record came to a stop. Connor laughed at that and started waltzing them faster around the room, confessing that he liked Oliver’s singing far better than the original singer’s anyway.

Between dancing and laughter Oliver thought back to his young self; the boy who was sad and heartbroken when Connor didn’t show back up at prom –something he’d find out years later was thanks to stupid Aiden’s suggestion, which led to Connor passing out from too much alcohol- and wished he could go back in time and reassure him. He wanted to tell young Oliver that it’d all come to him in time and that he’d be here, happy and dancing barefoot in pajama bottoms at 3 in the morning with the same boy he spent years crushing at.

“ _Wanna dance?_ ” Oliver would say five years after their prom, and Connor would nod happily and dance with no one but Oliver for the rest of the night.

Years and years later Connor and Oliver would still be together, late night dances in the light of the refrigerator or the dim TV a ritual of theirs. And they’d both swear that nothing made them happier than making up for that one dance they missed, over and over again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading and I hope you liked the ficlet!! Kudos/comments are much appreciated as always <3
> 
> P.S: You can always find me at sulkybbarnes where I hit the reblog button quite beautifully and ignore my studies a lot.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt on tumblr for strangers on Kiss Cam -because why the hell not.

Oliver was having an awful night in general. He was third-wheeling his only friend and her -admittedly creepy- boyfriend, he was sat watching a basketball game he didn’t even care for and to top it all off the place was extremely loud and all too crowded for his tastes. He just wanted to go home and curl up with a book and a nice hot cup of coffee, but instead he had to suffer through this stupid game because Frank wanted to impress Laurel and the latter was too kindhearted, and way too freaking stubborn, to ditch Oliver on a weekend. So here they all were, Frank and Laurel sat to Oliver’s right and occasionally making sickening eyes at each other -he really didn’t trust this new Frank guy- while Oliver frowned at his food and tried real hard not to stare at the hot guy sitting to his left. He was doing a piss poor job with that last one, to say the least. 

The guy to Oliver’s left, dressed in silver and dark green, looked sinfully good. He had tousled hair and an ever present grin, and every time he laughed at something his friends commented Oliver’s breath hitched a little. Oliver spent the entire first half of the game alternating between sneaking glances at the guy and fantasizing about going back home to his bed, and if those two activities overlapped at some point then no one needed to know really.

After a good portion of the game had passed -Oliver couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to any of it- the teams retreated somewhere to the sidelines, probably to rest, and loud commercial music started up at the speakers.

For the first time that night Oliver’s attention was piqued, and he watched in amusement as the huge screens displayed something called Kiss Cam. The camera panned out over the watching crowd, occasionally stopping on various couples and broadcasting as the chosen couple shared a kiss. Oliver laughed with the rest of the crowd when an old couple made a show of making out on screen. He grinned over at Laurel then glanced at Hot Guy to gauge his reaction when two girls, obviously on a date, leaned in and kissed quickly the separated -only for the dark haired one to pull the redhead back into a deeper kiss. 

He was ready to admit that this was kind of cute when the screen suddenly displayed a new couple. Except, it wasn’t just any couple. From the huge screen Oliver’s deer-in-the-headlights expression stared back at him, joined with shit-eating grin of the guy to his left. Oliver felt his cheeks heating up at once.

“Hey, Hot Nerd,” The guy, now fully smirking, turned to look at Oliver. “You mind if I kiss you?” 

“I, uh, n-no. Go for it.” Oliver spluttered out, distantly registering Laurel’s excited squeal but not giving it much thought. 

Once Oliver had given his consent, Hot Guy swooped in to the cheers of the crowd and pressed soft lips to Oliver’s own parted ones. The noise from the stands fell away and all Oliver could hear was his erratic heartbeat. There was a hand cradling his jaw, the burn of stubble against his chin, and if Oliver had to make a list of the most exhilarating moments of his life this would definitely make the top three. It could have been a few seconds or a handful -although the wolf whistles did indicate the latter- when Hot Guy pulled back and stared at Oliver. The camera must have moved again since Oliver heard more cheers from the surrounding people, but he couldn’t tell for sure because he was too busy staring back at the stranger he just kissed. 

“So,” Oliver cleared his throat then smiled nervously. “I don’t usually kiss complete strangers at random or introduce myself to them afterwards, but since it’s turning out to be that kind of day-” Oliver reached out a slightly shaky hand, ignoring Laurel’s poorly concealed laughter. “Oliver Hampton.”

“Connor Walsh,” Connor offered back, shaking Oliver’s hand in a sure grip. “And I do occasionally kiss strangers but I gotta say, none of them makes the strong impression you just did.”

“Must be the cameras and the soundtrack misleading you,” Oliver said with a shy smile. Connor had the bedroom eyes on full display and a faint reddening to his cheeks, he looked like some model Oliver would see on a billboard on the street. Not someone who would be sitting right here and possibly flirting with Oliver. 

“Or you’re just a really good kisser,” Connor answered shamelessly, his lips twitching when Oliver blushed then ducked his head to hide a smile. “Tell you what, Glasses, how about I take you out for late dinner after the game and we get to find out which one is it?”

“This is a weird day, this doesn’t normally happen to me.” Oliver muttered, too dumbstruck to say anything else. His words driving Laurel to elbow him hard in the side. “Ow! You shameless eavesdropper!” Oliver turned to hiss out at her, receiving a glare in answer and an obvious indication that Laurel thought the date a good idea.

Oliver turned back, his cheeks burning even more with embarrassment, to find Connor staring at him with raised eyebrows and laughing eyes. 

“Your friend seems to think we should give it a go,” Connor stated. “I’d hate to disappoint her.”

“Y-yeah, me too,” Oliver smiled. “Dinner it is.” 

“Cool.” Connor grinned then turned back to the game, his attention only holding a few seconds before he glanced back at Oliver with a smaller smile. 

Later, Oliver guessed, they’d get out and have dinner and get to really know each other. He couldn’t wait for the game to end, this time for completely different reasons, and hoped that his date ahead would bring more kissing and maybe more Connor into his life. With that hope simmering in him, Oliver spent the remaining of the match playing a private game with Connor where they both snuck glances at each other, and then looked away with varying degrees of shyness. Although that last part was more Oliver than Connor.

The match, to Oliver’s delight, went surprisingly quickly after that -with their own little game going on.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys liked that. You can leave me more prompts here or at sulkybbarnes on tumblr.
> 
> Kudos/comments are most appreciated, please tell me what you think!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt "It's not what it looks like"

Oliver doesn’t know how he got himself into this mess to begin with. Surely the hotshot lawyer with an entire office to his name would know enough to reconnect the printer’s cables on his own but no. Heaven forbid Connor freaking Walsh does anything for himself. He just had to phone IT to come take care of this, like he did numerous times before, and that led to Oliver coming up to the younger man’s office and ending up where he was now. Which was on his knees, practically between Connor’s legs and with a very scandalized Asher Millstone gaping at them both from the doorway. 

“ _Shit,”_ Oliver scrambled back quickly, hitting his head against the desk’s edge in the process, at the same time that Connor -Oliver stopped calling him Mr. Walsh months ago- jumped up to explain. 

“It’s  _not_ what it looks like,” Connor indicated between the two of them frantically, his skin flushed and expression sheepish if slightly amused. Asher who had been backing out of the door slowly paused at the words and raised his eyebrows. 

“Really, it isn’t?” Asher questioned with disbelief dripping down from his every word. Oliver straightened up from his position by the desk but tried to move as little as possible, in hope that both men would forget he was there -or that the ground would open up and swallow him whole. In his embarrassment he was fine with either option really. “Because what it looks like is that you finally got the Hot Nerd you’ve been hitting on for the past few months to blow you. Which, more the power to you bro, but can you not do it in the fucking office? Where anyone, namely me, can walk in on you? ‘Cause I’m tellin’ you now, Con, I’ve seen more of you in the past than any bestfriend needs to in a lifetime.”

“I just told you it wasn’t like that, we’re both fully clothed!” Connor hissed with a quickly coloring face. He was careful to keep his eyes trained on Asher, and Oliver was grateful for that because did Millstone just indicate that Connor has been hitting on  _Oliver_? For  _months_? “The stupid printer stopped working and I needed someone to work out the cables. So Oliver was doing that, reconnecting stuff under the desk and I, uh, was giving him something then the chair rolled too close -” 

“This sounds a lot like the start of a porno to me,” Asher interrupted with a lewd grin, throwing Oliver a wink for good measures and causing him to flush crimson. “But I think I got the picture. The right picture.” The man shrugged, glancing between the two with a half grin then backing out again. “Tell you what, I’ll come back later and you kids finish what you almost started. Just lock the door first ‘cause Michaela might have a heart attack if she walks in next.”

“Fuck you,” Connor muttered, his arms now crossed and cheeks as red as Oliver’s. 

Asher mouthed something that looked like  _Best wingman ever!_ at Connor, receiving a glare for his efforts, then finally left the office. Pointedly closing the door behind him. 

“So that was,” Connor cleared his throat, still not meeting Oliver’s eyes. “Yeah.”

“Did Millstone mean what he said?” Oliver asked curiously, reaching up to adjust his glasses out of habit. “That you’ve been hitting on me for a while?”

“I mean,” Connor sighed and moved to sit back on the rolling chair that started this whole mess. He looked down at his hands as he spoke and the gesture made something like fondness twist in Oliver’s chest. “I’ve been trying to. Do you really think a single person can fuck up this much digital equipment in a few months’ time?”

“I was starting to think you were just technologically challenged,” Oliver laughed, and Connor’s head snapped up at the sound. The laugh seemed to soothe him because a small grin started playing at Connor’s mouth. “And you could have just asked me out, you know. I’d have said yes -I mean it’s not against policy if we date. Is it?”

“N-no, technically speaking I’m more of a consultant than an employee. Wes just likes me too much to make me share an office with Sam.” Connor took a deep breath and stood back up. “I didn’t ask you out because I don’t usually do that. Ask people out, I mean.” Oliver’s face fell at the statement and Connor hurried to explain. “But you were different somehow and I didn’t wanna make it a one night thing with you, but I couldn’t break my own rules either so..”

Connor’s words trailed off with a shrug and Oliver could see just how hard it was for him to say this. How he glanced at the door and the ceiling and anywhere that wasn’t Oliver’s face. Oliver moved a step closer. 

“What if  _I_ ask you out?” Oliver smiled, his heart trying to make its way out of his ribcage because there was no way Connor -smart, sarcastic, gorgeous Connor- would say yes to this. “It’d be just like the drinks we grabbed with the rest of the company a couple weeks back, except this time we would be alone. And there’d be more kissing involved.” 

“I’m all in for the kissing,” Connor smirked, some of his confident behaviour coming back at last but with a softness that most didn’t get to see. “And maybe for the dating part too. I mean, no promises yet or anything. But I think maybe. Soon.. I’d like to call it that.”

“Then  _for now_ that’s enough for me,” Oliver smiled, walking the few final steps and dropping a chaste kiss to Connor’s cheek. The other man stared at him in pure awe as if Oliver was something rare and beautiful. It made Oliver a bit dizzy but he grinned through it. “Does eight tonight work for you? Same place we went to last time?”

“Yeah. Yes.” Connor nodded. He looked stunned but mostly happy, so Oliver refrained from commenting on it. Judging by what he knew of Connor so far, the guy will need a little time to adjust and Oliver was happy granting him that.

“Well your printer should be in working order and if you need anything then you have my number. Probably on speed dial by now.” Oliver smiled, small and shy this time, then headed towards the door. “I’ll see you later tonight.” 

“See you tonight.” Connor returned and just before Oliver left the office he caught a wide grin lighting up Connor’s face. 

Oliver smiled all the way down to his own department. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos/comments are most appreciated, please tell me what you think!! <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt "I just woke up from a 6 month coma and I don’t remember anything about the past 5 years but that’s kind of okay because as a trade-off this gorgeous stranger sitting at my bedside is saying he’s my husband"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I come back from my writing break bearing light angst, I hope you guys like it!
> 
> **Content warning: Memory loss and amnesia.**

Oliver wakes up with a throbbing pain behind his forehead.

He isn’t sure where he is, why the lights are so bright or when he fell asleep –but the distinct smell of antiseptics doesn’t reassure him. He knows for a fact that he hasn’t been drinking last night, and even if he has then he wouldn’t have left home and ended up at a  _hospital_  because that’s definitely where he is. There’s the sound of a machine somewhere behind him, the glare of fluorescent lights above his head, and -most shocking of all- a stranger’s hand clasped in his against the bed sheets. Oliver squints in confusion at the stranger asleep in the chair next to his bed, hesitates a second, and then starts to retract his hand slowly. 

Except that, as luck would have it, the movement jostles the other man and he wakes up anyway. Great.

The stranger stares in what looks like shock, his eyes wide and quickly welling up with tears. Oliver would apologize or ask what he did wrong, except that he’s slowly becoming aware of how much his dry throat hurts and how the words won’t come even if he wanted them to. He moves his lips soundlessly a few times and it seems to kick start something in the other man’s brain; because in a blink he’s scrambling for the door and calling out to the nurses. 

The next few seconds are a blur of moving bodies and beeping machines, the stranger from Oliver’s bedside hovers close and has a look of such pure pain on his face that Oliver feels like hugging him. The man tries to smile at Oliver more than once but it falls flat with how worried he looks. Oliver appreciates the effort all the same.

Still, he wonders;  _what the hell is going on?!_

“Here you go,” One of the female nurses says as she helps Oliver sip at a straw, the water sliding down his throat and making him feel more human. 

A doctor comes in next and starts checking up vital signs then speaking in a clear voice. 

“Hello there, I’m Doctor Novak,” The man smiles at Oliver then shines a bright light in his eye. “It might be hard for you to talk for now but don’t worry about that. I’ll ask you a few questions, you try answering me with simple words. Don’t push your vocal cords just yet.” Oliver nods and the doctor shoots the stranger a look before he turns back to Oliver. “Do you know what’s your name?”

“O-oliver.” Oliver grits out, his eyes moving between the nurse and the stranger in confusion. Why is he feeling so dizzy? Why would they ask him if he knew what his own name was? “Oliver Hampton.”

From the corner of the room, the strange man –disheveled and tired looking but still gorgeous- makes a strangled sound. 

“Do you know what year this is, Oliver?” The doctor asks calmly, causing Oliver to frown.

“Um,” Oliver hesitates, his headache making itself pronounced once more. What year is it? When was the last time he checked a calendar or went to a New Year’s party? “Uh, 2014?” 

The doctor writes something down in his papers, ignoring another strangled noise from the stranger -who doesn’t look like a nurse or a part of staff now that Oliver thinks about it- and speaks again in a gentle tone. “Can you tell me the exact date of today?”

“I-I.. M’not sure.” Oliver mumbles. His attention is solely focused on the stranger now, because the man has his eyes squeezed shut and his arms wrapped around his ribcage as if keeping himself together. Oliver has the maddening urge to get up and comfort him in any way he can, and it’s the strangest thing considering he has no idea who the man is.

“How about an approximation?” Kind blue eyes fix on Oliver, and he doesn’t want to let down his doctor or cause the strange guy any more grief so he thinks real hard before he answers.

“L-late August,” Oliver decides and it feels right.

He remembers the summer heat as he left for work a…while ago. He remembers seeing college students looking for apartments and moving into their dorms. He can’t recall when exactly he saw all this, can’t pinpoint the details without a searing pain going through his skull, but he’s pretty sure now he got it right. 

“I see,” The doctor sighs. He asks a few more questions after that, mostly about how Oliver is feeling and if he can move his various body parts. The man standing in the corner doesn’t speak again or catch Oliver’s gaze, but he moves a bit closer and roams his eyes all over Oliver’s body as if making sure he’s fine. 

After it’s been five minutes of this, Oliver starts regaining more of his higher brain functions and decides that he’s done answering questions and needs some answers of his own.

“What’s going on?” Oliver croaks out, cutting Dr. Novak off from speaking about CT Scans or something. “W-why are you asking so many questions? Why am I here?”

“Mr. Walsh, please.” The doctor motions for the stranger –Walsh- to step up to the bed and the man silently complies. “See, Oliver, there’s no easy way of saying this and I apologize in advance but you’ve been in a car accident. That was about six months ago, and you immediately went into coma afterwards.”

“Oh. Oh, okay,” Oliver breathes out, his brows furrowing. The stranger -Walsh- swallows loudly and looks away, and Oliver is painfully aware of how quiet the room suddenly becomes.

_Six months. Car accident._

“Now we can’t be too forward with information in fear of trauma, but your responses so far are promising. Amnesia is pretty common in these cases; we won’t push any information on you. But you can retrieve your memories in time with some help-”

“Who is he?” Oliver asks, his heart hammering in his chest and the machines echoing their protest. He feels the first dredges of fear clawing at his mind and looks desperately at both men. “Is it even still 2014?”

“Who are you?” Oliver directs the question at the stranger this time, his breath stuttering when their eyes meet and the stranger’s are whiskey brown and rimmed with tears. Some faraway part of Oliver’s brain muses that they’re the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen. 

“My name is Connor,” The guy says softly, his hands fidgeting with his long sleeves. “I’m your husband.”

Oliver’s entire world comes to a halt then starts spinning away rapidly. 

“I think that’s enough for now, Mr. Walsh,” The doctor warns, not unkindly, and the man –Walsh, Connor,  _Oliver’s fucking husband_  apparently- bites down at his lower lip and nods. 

Oliver lays back down as his thoughts take up chase around his head, and closes his eyes tightly in hopes of waking up from whatever twisted dream this is. He waits a few seconds before opening his eyes again but the room is still there when he does. Dr. Novak is talking about medical stuff again, and Connor looks gutted.

_Amnesia. Husband. Six months. Holy fuck._

“I need more water.” Oliver whispers to no one in particular. 

***

For the next couple of hours, Oliver doesn’t get to ask more questions or spend any more time with his supposedly-husband Connor. Instead he’s ushered from one room to another, greeted by no fewer than three doctors, and put through various health tests. By the end of it he’s eager to go back to his room and maybe get some answers, what the doctors said about waiting be damned. 

“You’re still here,” Oliver observes upon re-entering his room and finding Connor waiting by the door. The nurse wheels him over to the bed, and he hates that he needs her help to move the two steps separating him from the bed. 

“You sound better,” Connor offers back hesitantly. He seems as unsure of himself as Oliver feels, but there’s also a look of determination on his pretty face and Oliver wonders if he first fell for that. And if he would fall for it again. 

“Doc says my speech center is functioning well, not so sure about the movement part but they have physical therapy for that.” Oliver shrugs, ignoring the stiffness in his muscles. “I’ll live.” He tries to smile for Connor’s benefit, relishing the look of gratefulness Connor gives in return.

“Yeah, you will. You know,” Connor starts, moving to sit back down at the chair he occupied when Oliver first woke up. “Doctors have been saying for months how you may not wake up. How unlikely it’d be after an accident so big, but I never really believed them. You always surprised me like that... with how tough you were under the dorky exterior.” Connor smiles down at his hands, making Oliver wonder just what type of flashback he was having. “I knew you’d do it this time too.”

“Uh, thanks. I think. Connor, can you tell me how long we’ve been together?” Oliver asks. “They told me it’s actually 2019. Well, I say  _told_ mebut I actually saw the date on someone’s phone. Had to double check.”  

“I’m not sure this is a good idea, Ollie,” Connor sighs, seeming to catch the nickname just as it fell out and then blushing. “Sorry. Old habit. This gotta be weird for you.”

“Surreal mostly,” Oliver admits as he fidgets with the white sheets. It’s weird talking to someone this hot without the usual awkwardness Oliver feels, but something about Connor’s presence feels soothingly familiar. Like talking to an old friend or -huh!- a lover. “Waking up knowing nothing and finding out I’ve forgotten five years,  _and_ I have a hot husband,” Oliver’s eyes widened at his slip, the blood rushing up to his face. “I.. I didn’t mean to-”

“’Course you did,” Connor snorts, looking way younger with the ghost of a smirk around his lips. Oliver doesn’t have his glasses back yet but he doesn’t need them to tell just how handsome Connor is, really, smiling or not.

“Well, since we’re married. Nothing you didn’t know, I guess.” Oliver smiles shyly, reaching up to fidget with his glasses but finding nothing there. “How did I get so lucky anyway?” He asks as a joke, trying to keep the light look on Connor’s face. 

Instead of more amusement however, Connor’s face softens and he seems to reach a decision as he grasps for Oliver’s left hand and holds it in both of his own. It is then that Oliver finally spots the silver band on Connor’s finger. 

“I was the lucky one from the start. It just took me some time and lots of mistakes to realize it, and you were patient with me. You gave me so many chances,” Connor stares up at Oliver, his eyes pleading and so vulnerable he looks nothing like the young man from minutes ago. “And I think if you want to, we can make it work again now. Even if you don’t get back your memories-”

“Because that’s a possibility.” Oliver states. 

“It is. And even then,” Connor pauses for a heartbeat and mindlessly toys with Oliver’s fingers. “We can still make it. F-fall in love again or whatever. It’s not like I ever stopped. It’ll be harder for you, since I can’t tell you everything and you don’t know me so well but. We can try.” 

And Oliver knows -without knowing how- that Connor means every word. That even though this could be strange and hard for the both of them, Connor wouldn’t give up on it. He knows that even though he could take the easier option; go back home with his mom who is on an airplane headed towards him, go back to where he was a little over five years ago and start building up his life again, he shouldn’t. Because here sits this man with all the love and devotion in his eyes, directed at Oliver.

And even though Oliver only feels a sense of  _right_ towards Connor now, he knows that if he gives this spark the chance it’ll go up into a full blown out fire. All he has to do is take the leap, and pray that Connor is strong enough to catch him. Which, something whispers to Oliver, he is.

“Okay,” Oliver nods, smiling broadly when Connor’s face lights up. 

“Okay?” Connor repeats, looking like a young boy again and making Oliver wonder just how old he really is underneath the formal suit and the scruffy beard. 

“Yes, I mean, I’ll have to talk to mom first and see some of those friends you said were waiting outside. And it’ll be weird at first but... okay.”

“Yeah. Okay. That’s great,” Connor confirms, squeezing Oliver’s hand once without breaking their eye contact. “I didn’t really prepare this far though so, um, we’ll have to figure it out from here on. Together.”

“Together it is,” Oliver smiles, the sense of rightness finally settling down behind his ribcage and making space for the excitement -and nervousness- bubbling up. 

“But one thing first, Connor,” Oliver ventures further, thinking _screw it_. “I want back my wedding ring.”

Connor beams at him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've been really sick -hence the break- and my mood affected the fic; meaning it was supposed to be way fluffier but this turned out the best I could do. I hope you guys liked it anyway. Tell me what you think?
> 
> Also we're almost to 500 kudos! I'm legit dying here and would shower you peeps in fluff -I'm not above bribing- if we get there after this chapter!! 
> 
> Kudos/comments are most appreciated, and you can always come to me with cute headcanons at sulkybbarnes on tumblr. Tell me what you think!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised fluff if we passed 500 kudos and holy shit did we pass it!! Thank you guys so so much for your support and lovely comments, you honestly have no idea how much it all means to me. 
> 
> This chapter is basically a drabble and you'll be getting more of those over the next few days. All cheesy and painfully fluffy, so be prepared. Thanks again, you guys rock!!

Connor had almost forgotten what it felt like to be touched this tenderly. He was used to the burning desperation of heated kisses, the efficient grope of hands fumbling in public bathrooms, the drag of teeth and the scrape of nails. And sure him and Oliver had shared those at the beginning, the hungry kisses and the roaming hands, had gotten good at not talking about wanting more or why Connor never stayed the night. It had gone on like that for weeks, Connor with his walls built high with barb wire to boot, and Oliver with his insecurities keeping him back on the ground, always preventing him from scaling Connor’s walls. 

Until something finally shifted between them.

Maybe it was the shy smile Oliver gave when Connor kissed him a bit softer than usual. Maybe it was the way Connor’s face lit up when Oliver asked him to stay two nights ago. Whatever it was had led them to this. And  _this_ was the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to Connor, and maybe to Oliver as well -judging by the way he was all but glowing. This was slow kisses and lazy smiles, it was fingers brushing against eyelids and toying with stray strands of hair, it was warm and unhurried and so achingly slow Connor could feel it on every inch of his skin. Never wanted to let go of it. And maybe, Connor thought, this is what people wrote poems and sang about. That flutter somewhere underneath your ribcage, the promise of something more without it being the sole purpose, the joy of knowing that someone wanted you close even if it didn’t involve labored breathing and naked skin. It was everything that Connor never wanted before or thought he could have. And yet he wanted it all now with Oliver. 

Something must have shown on his face, his thoughts translating into pleading looks, because Oliver smiled at him like he knew a secret no one else did. He pressed upturned lips against Connor’s temple, let his hands wander to the line of Connor’s jaw and the back of his neck, the feeling of soft long sleeves against Connor’s throat speaking of home and tenderness and Oliver, Oliver,  _Oliver._

_“_ Stay tonight too,” Oliver whispered to him, a secret for Connor alone to hear. Made more intimate by the dark lighting and Oliver’s lips close to his ear. 

Connor bit down his smile until he realized that he didn’t have to, and then let it show on his face. Oliver could have all of his smiles.

“I’ll stay.” Connor promised, and knew that he didn’t mean it for tonight only. Oliver seemed to know that too, and he kissed his happiness into Connor’s skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys liked this little piece. I usually keep those to my tumblr, but I'll post the ones I write through the week if you guys want to read them. Also -here comes the self promotion- if you want to see my very first chaptered Coliver fic then I started one a few days ago called Poker Face. Maybe you can check that one out too, if you'd like!
> 
> Thank you for reading and being generally awesome, kudos/comments are much appreciated!!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Domestic coliver fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's more fluff because you people are awesome and I'm celebrating the end of finals! This chapter is just tooth rotting fluff and I apologise in advance. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Connor remembered scoffing at TV couples when he saw them in the past. He wasn’t exactly the bitter type or someone who was half as cynical as he pretended to be, but he never believed much in the cuddly-sickeningly-sweet-couples trope either. Surely those people had better use of their time than kissing and making eyes at each other. Not that Connor had anything against kissing, but there were better things to do with one’s time if he wasn’t doing a job or getting hammered. Or so Connor thought for the first twenty five years of his life -until he met Oliver and, cliché of all clichés, Connor’s so-called beliefs about love took an arrow to the heart. See what he did there?

Connor was by no means an idiot -he knew he was screwed the moment Oliver smiled shyly at him, and Connor’s stomach decided to take residence in his fancy shoes- but he was a master of denial. It took him close to three months to admit to himself that he really liked Oliver, and another four to admit that they were a  _couple._ A word that used to make Connor grimace in years prior but lost its sting the moment Oliver hesitantly asked “ _So are we a couple now? Officially. I mean.”,_ and Connor could do was nod and ease Oliver’s worries with a kiss. He even found out he liked calling Oliver his boyfriend after that, regardless of how much his bestfriend Asher teased him for it.

Point in case was; before he met Oliver, Connor never considered that there will come a day where he found himself in this situation.  _This_ situation being domestic bliss. The sickening, why-am-I-smiling-at-my-TV, doting kind of domestic bliss that you saw in romantic comedies. Except that it wasn’t sickening at all, and it was happening to Connor not on some stupid TV show. Take that, young Connor.

“What has you all quiet and thoughtful?” Oliver asked from where he sat to Connor’s left, his glasses sliding down his nose, feet tucked under Connor’s thighs on the couch, and a book resting face down on his lap.

“Just thinking,” Connor shrugged while stifling a yawn. He reached out to clasp Oliver’s ankle with his left hand, toying with the soft fabric of his boyfriend’s sweatpants. “These are horrible, why are you wearing them?”

“They’re a nice pattern, your mom got them for me!” Oliver tried to sound indignant but he kept smiling for some reason, and it was completely ruining the effect of his faux-frown. Connor grinned. “What were you thinking about? You got all smiley, I’m a bit curious.”

“Just this cute guy I know. He’s something else, and it never stops being fascinating to me. How great he is... ya know?” Connor’s smile softened the more he spoke, and it was a testament for how far they’ve come that Oliver smiled back tenderly, not a shadow of doubt on his face as to whom Connor was talking about. There had been a time where Connor was stupid enough to let Oliver doubt them, he almost lost Oliver back then and spent long months afterwards gaining back his boyfriend’s trust. Now they were here though, in a shared apartment, sat comfortably in their apartment with warm lighting and their bodies fitting together comfortably in the small space, just soaking the other’s company, and whenever Connor -or Oliver for that matter- smiled or spoke of affection the other knew it was all directed at him. It was a wonderful feeling, and Connor will never stop being grateful for it. 

“Also,” Connor added as an afterthought, smile still firmly in place; “My mother has horrible taste in pajamas. This thing is horrendous, Ollie.”

“Shut up, you like it. They’re cute.” Oliver wiggled his toes underneath Connor’s thigh, causing the latter to squirm then laugh. “And just so you know, that guy is incredibly lucky if he has someone like you thinking he’s fascinating.” Oliver’s words trailed off with a beautiful smile, his cheeks reddening as he reached up to fix his glasses.

“Someone like me?” Connor questioned, his hand tightening around Oliver’s ankle and a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Someone incredibly hot,” Oliver informed him solemnly, reaching for the book again and focusing at the page before he continued; “Though you don’t have much else going for you, I’m afraid, you’re kind of a dick.”

“You asshole!” Connor laughed, smacking Oliver’s leg and relishing the mischievous grin his boyfriend wore. He let go of the other guy’s ankle and crawled into his lap, taking a second to place the book aside before he put both arms around Oliver’s neck and mock pouted at him. “We were having a moment.”

“You insulted my dinosaur pjs, Con,” Oliver places both hands on Connor’s waist, doing a good job of holding the younger man in place while he gazed up at him with pure adoration. It didn’t escape Connor that they were hitting every clichéd love-sick trope in the books, but he really didn’t care. “I like those pjs.”

“They’re horrible,” Connor insisted with a grin, moving closer to peck Oliver on the lips then nuzzle his face into the man’s neck. “So horrible I can’t look at them anymore, I’ll have to stay here till lights out.” He joked.

“Hmm something tells me I can live with that,” Oliver whispered, adjusting their positions so that Connor was sat sideways his lap, Connor’s face tucked into Oliver’s neck and the latter’s hand brushing at Connor’s hair. 

Cuddling on a couch? Check. Cheesy lines and play-fight? Check. Smiling into your significant other’s skin while they played with your hair? Double check.

“And Connor,” Oliver pressed a kiss to Connor’s hair, then another to his forehead as he leaned to grab the discarded book with his free hand. “You’re pretty fascinating yourself. Best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

And wow, Connor thought, maybe his lovelife was straight out of a damn TV show after all. The sappy, sweet type of course.

“Even when I’m being a dick about your stupid pjs?” Connor asked sleepily into Oliver’s neck, brushing a soft kiss where his lips rested and smiling a little when Oliver shivered.

“Even when you’re being a dick about my  _awesome_ pjs.”

“Knew you liked me.” Connor mumbled, his thoughts slowing down and swirling with images of a shy smile and the cocky asshole it was directed at all those years ago. In his sleep addled state, he thought that that smile might have saved him. That this was the only place he ever belonged and he wouldn’t have made it here if it weren’t for that smile. Sleepiness made him think some weird, albeit true, things.

“Kinda love you, actually.” Oliver’s words were soft and calm, the way everything about Oliver was. Warm and sweet and all the things that spoke to Connor of home. “Now hush, sleepyhead, I need to finish this book.”

“Love ya too,” Connor mumbled, his left hand curling at the hem of Oliver’s shirt -soft and thankfully plain of any offensive patterns- and his eyes finally drooped shut.

His last conscious thought was of Oliver’s arm tightening around him protectively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked that chapter, tell me what you think about it and leave me prompts if you want! Also holy shit, we're almost at 600 kudos?! Did I mention that you guys rock?! Because you totally do.
> 
> Kudos/comments are most appreciated, and I might cry if we hit 600 kudos soon. Happy tears, of course!
> 
> P.S: I've only just finished my finals and so I'm going back to updating Poker Face this week, I'm so terribly sorry for the long wait.  
> P.P.S: Come find me on sulkybbarnes on tumblr where I post stuff more often


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the prompt: My water bottle wouldn’t open so I threw it and it hit you AU (taken from a [ tumblr post](http://sulkybbarnes.tumblr.com/post/121521834497/alternate-universe-ideas) .)

This had to be the stupidest situation Connor had ever found himself in. He had his fair share of fuck ups and slips in the past, but this one definitely took the cake. Connor had been heading back to his apartment after a run, his skin glistening with sweat and his throat screaming for a drink of water. He had reached for his sealed water bottle innocently enough to try and open it, but the thing remained stubbornly closed, Connor struggled with the cap for long minutes, his dry throat screaming at him along with his sore muscles, and in a fit of childish rage Connor threw the bottle away with a cry. Except that the bottle decided to soar through the air, arc its way down, flipping end over end till it was cap first and smacked some poor bastard straight in the stomach. The stranger made a breathless  _ooff_ sound and doubled in pain. Connor spared a second to mentally face palm at his own idiocy before running to the stranger’s side and offering his frantic apologies.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

“Fuck, man, I’m so _so_ sorry,” Connor scrambled to say, biting down at his lip and letting his hands flutter near his victim’s -oh god- shoulders without actually touching the guy. “Did it hit you too hard? Should I call an ambulance?”

“D-don’t flatter yourself,” The man gritted out, finally straightening into a standing position while still clutching at his stomach. “You don’t throw that solid, but the bottle is kind of heavy.”

“Well, lucky for you then. That I don’t throw that hard, that is. Not that you got hit.” Connor clarified quickly, his eyes getting trapped into the brown-eyed glare currently directed at him. The man had thick rimmed glasses on and a button up that was too nice for 7am on a Saturday morning, but with the way he was glaring at Connor he looked more the Hot Pissed Off Librarian and less the Cute Dork -which Connor had already decided was the guy’s usual look, for some reason.

“Yeah. So lucky,” The guy muttered with pure sarcasm, his glare dissolving into a wince of pain as he rubbed at his stomach. Connor chewed at his lip guiltily.

“Sure you don’t need an ambulance or to... I don’t know, sit down or something?” Connor questioned. To his relief, the guy’s lips twitched this time as he shook his head and sighed.

“No, I’m good, really. Just had the air knocked out of me, and I’m sure I have a bruise where the cap hit but I’ll live.” The man shrugged. He reached up to fix his crooked glasses and gave Connor a curious once-over. His voice sounded friendly albeit shy when he spoke again. “So, what has the poor bottle done to offend you anyway?”

“I, uh, it wouldn’t open. I was thirsty, my run was crappy and, well,” Connor shrugged lamely, any other day and he’d be smirking his way into this guy’s pants by now, but the circumstances were different than how he usually met guys and Connor was so  _so_ tired that he just sighed and continued with the truth. “It’s been a long, awful week.” 

“And the bottle had to pay for it,” The guy nodded slowly, his smile sweet and drawing bigger. Gone were the blazing angry looks that this stranger threw at Connor moments ago, and in their place were warm kind eyes that seemed too perceptive for Connor to handle. 

 _“_ More like  _you_ had to pay for it since I doubt the bottle felt anything. Sorry again about that.” Connor told the kind stranger. _Kind_ seemed like the right word to use, because heaven knows Connor would be throwing punches by now if some asshole had hit _him_ with a flying water bottle. 

“It’s alright, no real harm done I suppose. Just,” The guy gave a lopsided smile, causing Connor to think  _oh shit_ and then said, “Don’t make a habit out of throwing bottles at unsuspecting pedestrians. Could get someone in the head next time.”

“Yes noted, Mister ...?” Connor put on his most charming smile as he fished for the guy’s name. He hoped it’d work even though he probably looked like a drowned rat with his hair plastered to his forehead, and his clothes clinging to him with sweat. 

“Just Oliver,” The man -Oliver- answered, visibly flushing as he extended a hand for Connor to shake.

“Connor Walsh,” Connor shook Oliver’s hand, the burn low in his stomach having less to do with the exertion from running and more with the man stood before him. “Let me buy you a coffee, Just Oliver. It’s the least I could do.” Connor grinned flirtatiously, knowing that this wasn’t his best line or introduction by far but guessing that it wouldn’t hurt to try.

“Wow,” Oliver breathed then let out a startled laugh, reaching up to fiddle with his glasses before speaking again. “You sure move fast.”

“Well, you’re cute and you’ve been very understanding about this whole thing. And a coffee is still the least I can do, so consider it an apology if nothing else.”

“No no, that’s alright,” Oliver tugged at his shirt, giving Connor another small smile. “It’s okay if it’s something else. I told you, your apology was accepted. We all have bad days.”

“So something else it is,” Connor smirked, bending down to pick up his water bottle then motioning for Oliver to start walking. “How do you feel about Starbucks?”

“Something else,” Oliver confirmed, walking close to Connor and grinning at nothing in particular. Connor couldn’t blame him because he was doing the same thing. “And I’m good with anything that has caffeine in it.”

“Great,” Connor stated, nudging their shoulders together and relishing the way Oliver’s smile turned shy and sweet. “Oh and Oliver?”

“Hmm?” Oliver turned to him with a curious look.

“Can you please open the water bottle for me?”

Oliver took the water bottle and opened it, without exerting much effort or causing any casualties, and all the while shaking with laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what that was but I hope it made you guys smile at least. I really tried not to make it into a crack fic while keeping it a bit funny. Hope it worked! 
> 
> Please tell me what you think, kudos/comments are most appreciated!!
> 
> (Almost to 600 kudos. So close!)


End file.
